


cracked, blood red booths

by military_bluebells



Category: Generation Kill
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Ficlet, Gen, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-02
Updated: 2020-06-02
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:02:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24490261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/military_bluebells/pseuds/military_bluebells
Summary: Brad doesn’t reply, looks out of the diner’s huge windows at the rain hitting their truck and the rest of the empty carpark. The town is quiet at this time of night but seems much more sinister with what Nate has told them. Three people have drowned in the town in less than a year, and none of their bodies have been found.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 4





	cracked, blood red booths

**Author's Note:**

> A prequel to a bigger fic I have yet to write
> 
> Suggested song: Trouble by Valerie Broussard

The diner is stereotypical with its checked tiles and cracked, blood red booths but since Brad isn’t up to trying his luck with a motel kitchen and there’s nowhere else in the small town to get food at this hour, it’ll have to do. The tacky neon ‘open’ sign buzzes just loud enough to irritate him, but he’s just glad the diner doesn’t have a decade-old jukebox for Ray to fuck with. 

Brad grimaces as Ray chews loudly with his mouth open like a toddler. 

“I can’t believe we’re finally here, I never thought we’d make it.” Ray says around a mouthful of mushed pancake. 

“Oh for fucks sake, my driving isn’t _that_ bad.” Brad glares over at Ray, his chin dripping with water and syrup. 

“How many speeding tickets and bike related trips to hospital have you had?I'd be safer being chased by hellhounds.” Ray shoots back, before shoving another chunk of pancake into his mouth. 

Brad doesn’t reply, looks out of the diner’s huge windows at the rain hitting their truck and the rest of the empty carpark. The town is quiet at this time of night but seems much more sinister with what Nate has told them. Three people have drowned in the town in less than a year, and none of their bodies have been found. 

It might not be anything supernatural, but it’s enough to peak Nate’s interest and that’s enough for Brad. 

“So, does Nate have an idea what this thing is, 'cause if it’s another vampire, you’re being the bait.” 

“Vampires don’t drown people, Ray.” Brad says, sipping his coffee that feels like sludge on his tongue, but he needs it after being cramped in Ray’s shitty truck with his fucking music. It’s one of the reasons he doesn’t drive much, because if Ray’s driving, Brad has control of the music. 

He focuses back on Ray as he licks his fingers clean; his face still looks a little pale and the bruise on his neck is still vivid. Brad grits his teeth and pushes the tightness in his chest away: if he’d been sooner, the sharp-teethed princesses wouldn’t have had time to spill any of Ray’s blood. 

Why a group of female vampires wanting mates would choose Ray, Brad doesn’t know, but he stores the information. Vamps like skinny, short prey. _Defenceless_ , Brad’s mind chimes, but even if he looks it, Ray is anything but. 

“I’m betting water spirit, there’s a lake just outside the town, perfect place for one.” 

Brad hums and reaches into his pocket for his wallet. He at least is an adult and owns a waterproof coat. “Pussy.” Ray’d said in the truck, before cursing as he stood in the torrent of cold rain as it seeped through his hoodie and jeans and sneakers. He’ll have to put up the heating in the motel room, because he’s not nursing Ray back to health when it’s his own damn fault. 

He puts the bills on his side of the table since Ray’s is coated in water and smears of syrup. Ray whines and pouts, saying, “Homes, I wanted ice cream.” 

“Like I’m letting you have sugar this late.” Brad replies, rolling his eyes. He's like toddler. 

Ray points a finger, “Technically it’s early,” 

“Ray.” 

Ray sighs, flopping against the booth dramatically. The waitress looks between them and Brad resists the urge to just grab Ray by the ear and drag him out of the diner. The saving grace in all this, is that the diner is empty apart from them. Brad turns and walks away. 

“Hey, wait up you Viking bastard!” Ray calls, his wet sneakers squeaking on the tiles, but Brad pushes through the door, blinking as his eyes adjust to the darkness compared the harsh light of the diner. The rain hasn’t slowed down, and Brad hears Ray curse a blue streak, racing past him to jump in the truck. Brad doesn’t comment as he takes the passenger seat: Ray’s driven with worse things than mild blood loss. 

They peel out of the diner car park onto the main road, no other cars in sight. It’s a ten-minute drive to the motel Nate suggested. It just so happens to be beside the lake. If it is a water spirit, Brad isn’t sure if that’s a good thing or not 

When they pull up, Brad takes a minute to look out at the lake, which in the darkness of the night and cover of the storm, reminds him of _the Rupture to Lucifer’s Cage_ , a picture Nate’d showed him last time they’d been face to face. 

“Creepy.” Ray says, but Brad doesn’t know if he’s referring to the lake or the sorry state of the motel. 

“Come on.” 

The room isn’t the worst they’ve ever stayed in, but there’s mould on the ceiling and the carpet looks around three decades old. 

Ray strips as he walks, clothes ending up in a wet pile by the foot of his bed. He leaves the twin closest to the door for Brad, which he appreciates. He leaves Ray sprawled across the top of the sheets in his wet boxers and lines the windows and doors with salt. He turns the mirror around in the bathroom and brushes his teeth, spitting the foam into the sink but not turning the tap on. 

He’ll wait until they’ve caught the monster. 

He locks the bathroom door from the outside, trusting Ray to know how to unlock it, and strips his own wet clothes off. He picks up Ray’s as well and hangs them on the heaters and the backs of the chairs. 

“Up Ray, I need to change your bandages.” 

Ray groans but flops over, sitting up. Brad does it as quickly and with as little eye contact as possible. 

“Who knew Vamp bitches had such sharp nails?” Ray hisses as Brad wipes the deep scratches with antiseptic. He wraps them since they’re down Ray’s side. 

He pulls out the blanket Ray insists on bringing with them and throws it over him. It’s a bright-coloured, eye-assaulting mess but Ray’s grandmother had embroidered it with runes and symbols, some of which even _Nate_ hadn’t recognised. 

“Don’t get a chill.” 

“You’re such a grandma.” Ray teases but settles under the sheets with the blanket wrapped around his shoulders. 

Brad slides into his own bed and lets Ray’s slowing breaths lull him to sleep. They’ll start the hunt in the morning.

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt credits: https://witterprompts.tumblr.com/post/611789757267181569/random-aesthetic-prompts  
> Diner coffee, sneakers against tiles, buzzing of a neon open sign, and red booth seats
> 
> https://write-it-motherfuckers.tumblr.com/post/612249658938507264/person-a-i-cant-believe-were-finally-here-i  
> Person A: “I can’t believe we’re finally here, I never thought we’d make it.”  
> Person B: “Oh for fucks sake, my driving isn’t _that_ bad.”


End file.
